


Feminine Hygiene

by acme146



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Female Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is a good brother, Episode: s01e21 Salvation, Ficlet, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Menstruation, Periods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 09:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: Samantha's ready to take down the demon that killed her mother and girlfriend. But there's a problem.





	Feminine Hygiene

**Author's Note:**

> This contains talk of periods. If you're afraid of that please leave.

Sam leant forward, trying to make the Impala go faster.

Pastor Jim dead, the demon coming to Salvation, visions getting stronger…

She just wanted it to be over.

Their dad was screaming down the highway in front of them, leaving skid marks every so often. Dean was right on his tail, going so fast Sam couldn’t read the signs telling them how illegal their speed was. She used to scream at Dad, and later Dean, telling them the cops would pull them over, stop them. They always ignored her, and now she understood why. Jess’ killer, _Mom_ ’s killer was just up ahead, and they had to get there _now_ , not soon.

Then she felt something. A horrible, familiar something.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Sammy, come on, we’ve been through this. We’ve got the same Mom.” Dean didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he still managed to smirk at her sideways.

Sam grit her teeth. “No, Dean—I—you’ve got to be kidding me, not now!”

Dean shot her a quick look. “Sammy?”

Sam groaned. “Fricking pineapples, that’s what!”

Dean did an immediate U-turn.

Sam gripped the armrest, breathing through her nose. “Of all the times—”

“Sammy, you can’t control it. Take the Aleve.”

“I don’t need any—”

“You’re going to need it soon and you know it. Take it.” Dean ordered.

Sam knew he was right. Still very unhappy, she reached into the glove compartment and took out the giant bottle.

“You need water?”

Sam shook her head and swallowed the pills dry.

Dean’s phone rang.

Sam swore.

Dean flipped the phone open, still looking for an exit.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?”

Sam immediately started shaking her head, drawing her finger across her throat.

“Relax Dad, Sammy needs the bathroom.”

A second’s pause, then “Don’t you still have that contraption I built for you?”

_This cannot be happening._

Dean tried to cover for her. “It’s kind of a longer thing than that, Dad. It’ll only take a second—”

“We don’t have time for this!”

Sam snapped. She grabbed the phone out of Dean’s hand and, with all the confusion, anger, resentment and pain of the last year, screamed, “I WANT A REAL BATHROOM SO I CAN PUT IN A TAMPON, DAD!”

A long silence followed.

“Meet me here when you’re done,” was their Dad’s squeaked response.

The dial tone sounded, and Sam slumped against the seat.

Dean took the phone from her. “There’s an exit up ahead. Sorry Sammy, I should have kept track of that.”

“Don’t be stupid, this is way earlier than it should be.”

“Well, you’re stressed, that’s probably messing you up,” Dean reasoned. “Just hang tight, we’ll be there in five minutes.”

Sam nodded, suddenly feeling dizzy. How the hell was she supposed to fight a demon with frequent stops for tampon changes?

Then she looked back to Dean, who had bought her one of every kind of pad and tampon during her first period, when Dad was away for almost a week and they were ‘old enough to be on their own’, did hours of research on the best painkillers while she watched Spongebob, and who always had Aleve, tampons and peanut M&M’s in the Impala. Who never made period jokes and always made her lie down for a couple hours a day while she was on, and gave her a code word to talk about it in front of other people, especially their father.

He was there for her. They’d figure it out.

“Sure thing, Dean.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> As bad as John Winchester treated his sons, I shudder to think about how he would have raised girls.   
> And I know you don't NEED a bathroom to put in a tampon. It's not always about need :)   
> This is actually the first SPN fic I ever wrote, so I'm curious to see what you all think about how my style's evolved.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme   
> P.S. This is also not going to turn into a series; I have to say that to someone else besides myself or it won't stick.


End file.
